Religion seeks to unify, where identity politics will only divide

Illustration: Eric Lobbecke

A new battle is looming between social conservatives and progressives. Religious leaders are preparing to defend religious freedom following their defeat on the same-sex marriage plebiscite. ­

Opposing them are progressives keen to prevent any religious protections being legislated that could allow discrimination against the LGBTI community.

The talking points are ready. Christian leaders will argue their faith is fundamental to who they are and that limiting their ability to live it deprives them of a fundamental right including, as stated in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the right to not only believe but also to manifest one’s ­religion. Social Services Minister Dan Tehan has called for a federal religious discrimination act. Same-sex marriage advocates and their progressive allies will argue that if practising their faith means some people will be offended or discriminated against then it’s not acceptable in today’s Australia. There is some irony in this argument.

On the one hand we are seeing a forceful intrusion of identity politics into every aspect of life — remember the University of Melbourne dance performance where white audience members were segregated, then asked to sign a piece of paper acknow­ledging their white privilege? The same people who are pushing this agenda ignore or rally against those who identify by their faith. Hypocrisy aside, there is a more fundamental difference ­between living one’s faith and identity ­politics.

At the heart of identity politics are immutable characteristics such as race and sex. When used to define people, they become corrosive to society because they divide rather than unite. Identity politics takes away an individual’s ability to be who they want to be and instead ties them to tribal politics. The result is that fiction writers are told to write only about people of their colour or people from their culture. The Queensland University of Technology thought it a good idea to establish an indigenous-only computer lab. Hillary Clinton sliced and diced her promises, making sure to cater to the perceived interests of 17 different iden­tity groups — because she thought, for example, that every African-American from Washington to Wisconsin wanted the same things.

Religion, on the other hand, as it is practised in Australia, unites rather than divides. Almost one-third of students in Catholic schools are non-Catholics. ­Relig­ious hospitals comprise about a quarter of all hospitals. ­Religious charities mobilise volunteers in greater numbers than non-religious groups. Religion contributes to strengthening the ties that bind a society. Anyone and everyone can join a religion.

Yes, there are failings, most ­notably those that have emerged through the Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sex Abuse. There are also caveats that come with the ­religious community’s largesse — employees need to practise what they preach and access to abortion services are limited, to mention just two.

While there are failings and ­caveats, the good that religion and its institutions contribute is greatly underappreciated despite extensive evidence of its benefit. It is largely accepted in scholarship that religion has strengthened Western societies’ cohesion (where most of the research has been undertaken), reduces crime, improves mental health and expands the economy. This good is achieved while emphasising the individual over the collective, contrary to identity politics.

From ­individual salvation in the Christian tradition to obligations on Muslims to fulfil the five pillars of their faith, religion is about the individual. You can’t pass on these responsibilities to others as identity politics is so fond of doing.

Contrary to the tribalism of identity politics where the sins of certain groups’ past generations (read white or male) are conveyed at birth to each successive generation, religion as it is practised in Australia puts the onus squarely on personal responsibility.

This doesn’t mean that religions don’t care for the community or fight for social justice. They do, but without using collective punishment through public shaming (at least not any more). Identity politics, on the other hand, is founded on the idea of individuals bearing the burden of others’ wrongs, benefiting from opportunities not earned and shaming those who refuse to sing from the same song sheet.

Where, for example, Christianity has original sin pushing believers to look internally to better themselves, identity politics has original victimhood where people are born with disdain, resentment and anger at others in society. Where religion teaches compassion and kindness, albeit not always fulfilled, identity politics encourages retribution against others for the temerity of being born into perceived privilege.

When the government ­announces its response to the ­religious freedom review chaired by Philip Ruddock, we should bear in mind the good that manifesting religion provides in our society and be prepared to protect it.

Denis Dragovic is honorary senior fellow at the University of Melbourne and author of No Dancing, No Dancing: Inside the Global Humanitarian Crisis (2018).